


any semblance of touch

by unraelated



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: D/s elements, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Touch-Starved, Verdant Wind/Azure Moon Joint Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unraelated/pseuds/unraelated
Summary: Dimiclaude week, day five: "Touch"Claude has had enough of Dimitri derailing his plans and their armies with his outbursts, and so he slips a little something in his meal to calm him down. He doesn't anticipate what happens next.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 280





	any semblance of touch

Dimitri was a problem, and one that Claude knew the answer to.

It didn’t mean that he liked it. It didn’t mean that he was happy with himself for doing it, but when the bloodthirsty king of Faerghus roared like the lion he emulated, when he grabbed soldiers by the throat and slammed them into walls, when he demanded they march straight to Enbarr and had to be gentled down from his rage, lest he take a horse and ride out himself… 

Well, something needed to be done. And no one could get through to him, despite everyone trying, and so Claude felt like his hand was forced.

In the end, it was a simple mixture, something from Dagda that he’d tested out on himself first to ensure no disastrous side effects. It left him loose-limbed for the entirety of the night, mind fuzzy and clouded with smoke, fingers numb, but ultimately _content_ , like sinking into a warm bath.

Satisfied with his results, Claude still waited another week or so, wanting to continue giving Dimitri opportunities to come to his senses on his own. When he didn’t - or _couldn’t_ \- Claude finally sighed and did what he had to.

Dimitri would be useless for giving orders and leading but in all honesty, he was only a figurehead anyway. Rodrigue, Gilbert, and Claude himself were the only ones seriously managing Dimitri’s army and troop requirements, and without any major battles to march toward in over a week, Claude thought it was high time to at least try the mixture and see if it brought forward any calming results.

So, he volunteered to help in the kitchens, slipped the drug into Dimitri’s food, and casually brought it out to him at mealtime. Claude was not so heartless that he wouldn’t stay near him, observe and ensure that Dimitri’s calm was something of a pleasurable one.

When everyone got up from the table - not without a few looks of disgust toward Dimitri, who had shoveled his food into his mouth with little concern for the taste or feeling of it and stormed off - Claude did so as well, following the trail of Dimitri’s black boots and the tattered remnants of his blue cloak.

He didn’t call out quite yet as he did not wanting to startle him, but Claude picked up the pace and rounded the corner, falling still at the sight before him.

Dimitri was hunched over, one of his hands pressed against the nearby wall for stability, the other clutching at his head. His back was still to Claude, so Claude couldn’t see his face but he recognized the drunken movements well enough and made his approach.

“...Dimitri?” He asked, and Dimitri’s head whipped around, the sudden motion almost causing him to lose his balance and so he slinked backward until his shoulders hit the wall and he could lean there, tipping his chin up toward Claude with a half-lidded eye.

“What do you want?” He asked, breathless but no less demanding for it. Claude found himself smiling as he reached out for him gently, touching a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

Had he given too much? Dimitri was a good deal taller than him and so Claude had used just a hair more than he tried on himself. A lesser dose may be beneficial in the future, to keep Dimitri’s balance while still dulling his rage.

“Nothing. Just to help.”

Dimitri batted his hand away, wrenching himself from the wall.

“I don’t - _need_ \- “

And he fell.

Not all the way down, not to the ground, but only because Claude was there to catch him by the waist, to steady him so he could get his feet under him again. Definitely too much. Less next time - or the same amount, but metered out. Claude remembered his experience, knew that the worst of it hit quickly before fading into the sweet, ignorant haze of the rest of it. Dimitri seemed as if he could use that.

With little other choice, Dimitri leaned onto Claude with an arm wrapped around his shoulder while Claude fastened his own arm securely around Dimitri’s waist.

“What was that, your highness?” Claude asked, incapable of _not_ teasing him - something he should probably feel a bit bad about, given how he was the one who got Dimitri into this state to begin with.

Dimitri growled in response but it was missing most of its barbs, and he said nothing else.

The two of them made their way to Dimitri’s rooms without much more conversation - in truth, Claude was watching him, eyeing carefully the effects of the drug he’d given him, but by the time they arrived, Dimitri was already a bit steadier, having adjusted somewhat to his world being tilted on its axis and was otherwise almost suspiciously quiet.

He’d planned on getting Dimitri to his room and letting him enjoy his evening, but Claude found that he wanted to make sure he’d be alright. After all, leave it to a beast like Dimitri to find a way to hurt himself even under pleasant conditions.

And so, Claude closed the door behind them both and Dimitri pulled away from his side to heave himself into his bed, laying flat on his back on the mattress and grunting at the weight of his armor. His fingers stumbled to try and slide his gloves off and then worked at the various straps keeping his armor on, uncoordinated and growing frustrated.

“Hey, let me help,” Claude offered quietly, moving forward and reaching his own hands between them so that Dimitri did not get frustrated and ruin - whatever this was.

This time, Dimitri let him help without protest and let his arms fall to his side as he looked up toward Claude - _through_ Claude it seemed, his eye glazed over and clouded.

“...poisoned,” he mutters, sputtering it out between his teeth.

Claude shook his head, taking off a shoulderpiece and then the other.

“No, you’re okay. You just need to relax a little, is all.”

“Relax…” Dimitri repeated, turning the word over in his mouth as if he’d never heard it before, like it was some kind of foreign combination of sounds. He tilted his head while Claude tugged off the plating over his arms and then the breastplate, leaving him in the light padded clothing typically worn under armor.

Dimitri started to remove that too, grunting as he tugged the padded shirt over his head, taking his undershirt off with it until Claude suddenly had an eyeful of his bare chest.

“Woah,” he said quickly, moving to take a quick step back, “Dimitri, you shouldn’t -”

“Shut up.”

Dimitri squirmed out of his pants too, until all that was left on him were his underclothes, the only thing separating his immodesty from the cool air of his room. His chest was a map of scars, a long and twisted line carved into his right side with a dozen smaller, thinner white lines over the rest of his skin. It did nothing to diminish the appeal, Claude was sad to say, and oh, how wasted a body like this is, attached to a madman who would never use it for the gentler things in life.

“Claude…” Dimitri breathed it out, still flat on his back on the bed. Tentatively, Claude drew closer, telling himself that it was so he could ensure that Dimitri was okay. Dimitri’s hand reached out then, wrapped around Claude’s wrist and he dragged him downward with enough force that sent Claude crashing into the bed with him.

He was careful not to land on top of him, only able to use his dexterity to roll to the side with his shoulder bouncing hard off of the mattress and his legs hanging uselessly off of the side.

“Hey - Dimitri, careful, I’m not…”

But Dimitri barely looked at him, just let his brow furrow as he tried to arrange the two of them on the bed together in some way that could be considered comfortable. It was difficult and was made harder by the fact that Claude was very pointedly trying not to touch any of his exposed skin, but such a task proved even harder with Dimitri’s sheer bulk taking up most of the bed.

“Here,” Dimitri said softly, finally moving up to lay on his shoulder and having Claude do the same so that they were facing one another. With his hand on Claude’s wrist, he pulled his fingers up, up, and pressed them against the center of his chest.

Dimitri closed his eye and Claude froze, feeling his steady heartbeat. Dimitri’s hand fell away and Claude was left there, touching him and he hardly dared to move, let alone breathe. Dimitri exhaled, his breath ruffling at the top of Claude’s hair, and Claude glanced up to meet his eye, feeling almost sheepish.

“....it’s nice,” Dimitri finally breathed, and Claude relaxed his hand, letting his palm brush against Dimitri’s sternum, “being touched.”

Claude’s eyes flickered down the long, hard planes of his body and had to wonder how long it had been since someone else had touched him. Since someone else had been this close to him without trying to kill him.

Some of that was Dimitri’s own fault, yes, but… after so long of being treated that way, Claude was starting to understand why he was so cruel and ruthless, even around friends.

“Do you feel more calm?” he asked, looking back up at him. Dimitri’s hair was spilled across his face, pooling on the blanket beneath his cheek, haloing him in a brightness that felt too light for the kind of person he was. Claude’s brows furrowed as his hand slipped up along the pale expanse of Dimitri’s shoulder, his throat.

Dimitri nodded, careful not to unseat Claude’s hand as he touched him, just basking in the sensation of fingers on his skin. Sluggishly, he reached up for Claude’s hand once more, pulled it to his mouth, pressed his lips against them.

“You drugged me.”

There was a pregnant pause. Claude’s eyes narrowed for a moment in apprehension and - maybe a little fear. Dimitri was unarmed, drugged, but still shouldn’t be taken lightly. If he chose to retaliate…

But he didn’t. He just opened his mouth and took Claude’s fingers in, letting his eye drift shut.

“Dimitri, I…”

Dimitri murmured unintelligibly with Claude’s hand pressed against his mouth and took his fingers deeper. Claude could feel the slickness of his tongue, the firmness of his teeth, and wondered for a moment if Dimitri would bite him.

But he didn’t. All he did was hold them in his mouth, clouded and hazy and finally at peace, with Claude’s fingers held limply between his lips, as if just the weight of it was enough to keep him calm.

Dimitri drifted off then, not entirely asleep, but not necessarily awake either. Claude let him, kept his fingers in Dimitri’s mouth until he could feel them going pruney from dampness and slowly pulled them out, coaxing a soft whimper out of the feral warlord, tamed and pliant next to him.

“I’m not going to leave,” he promised, sliding his fingers up the long expanse of Dimitri’s forearm, his elbow. A visible shiver slipped up his spine and Dimitri leaned forward, pressed his face against Claude’s chest.

“I need you,” Dimitri murmured, muffled against Claude’s shirt, “to tell me what to do.”

Claude went still at that, his hand still on Dimitri’s bicep.

“Because I don’t… I don’t know. I can’t go on. They’ll drag me back to them.”

“Dimitri…” He started, but didn’t know what else to say. Slowly, Claude pulled Dimitri’s head back to look him in the eye again, his mouth pulled tight, thinking. “Can you hear them now?”

Dimitri shook his head slightly and Claude took a deep breath. Encouraging.

“Good. Just relax. I’ve got you, alright?”

“Mm.”

Claude went back to touching him then, sliding his hands along Dimitri’s arm, his shoulder, tangling fingers warmly in his hair. Dimitri obeyed him and relaxed, still at ease and gentle with the drug coursing through his veins.

There was a low rumble in his throat when Claude petted at him, cupped at the side of his head to slide a thumb across his cheek, understanding somehow that the contact was… comforting. Maybe comforting enough that Dimitri could happily carry the memory of it away from this, comforting enough that he could look back on it and let it gentle him during his rages.

Claude didn’t know. He hoped that it would be the case, but right then, all he could do was put Dimitri at ease by sliding his palm along his skin, his throat, his collarbone, careful not to touch anywhere beneath his chest, careful not to go too far.

But it seemed that ‘too far’ was exactly where Dimitri’s mind was going and it was getting difficult not to notice his cock growing firmer through the thin fabric of his underthings. Claude pointedly did not look, tried to push it from his mind, but Dimitri’s breathing started to quicken and Claude could see the slightest hint of a flush rising in his cheeks, the tips of his ears, his… his chest, where his nipples were peaked and flushed darker.

“Dimitri…” he said softly, a warning, a - he didn’t know what. Leave him here to wake up the next day and feel whatever it was he was going to feel? Help him through it and feel like he was taking advantage? Keep ignoring it and try to will Dimitri back into some less-erotic state?

“Mm.”

“Dimitri.” He said again, more insistent this time, and Dimitri’s eye cracked open until Claude could just see the sliver of blue in it. He took Claude’s hand then and pulled it downward, down, and Claude’s eyes sank shut because he knew where it would wind up, he knew exactly what he would do, and when he felt the warm and insistent press of Dimitri’s twitching erection on the other side of his underclothes, he knew that he wasn’t going to stop him.

"Touch me," Dimitri asked again, his voice bordering on a whine this time as he took his hand away, leaving Claude's fingers on the aching-hot warmth of him. 

It burned him like a brand and Claude felt helpless but to comply, twisting his wrist to palm Dimitri through the fabric. Dimitri groaned, already rocking his hips up against him, hot and insistent. Claude spared a glance down and could _see_ him, the urgent outline of the head of his cock, the dabbled spot of wetness beginning to leak through his underwear, and he pressed his fingers more firmly around him, trying to make it pleasurable.

Dimitri tipped his head back and gasped as he fell to his back, flat-shouldered on the bed and Claude lifted up on his elbow to lay closer to him, lean over him, marvel in the way the high flush in his cheeks made the flinty blue of his eye even more intoxicating.

"How long has it been," Claude asked, his voice barely a whisper, "since someone touched you like this?" 

Dimitri didn't meet his eyes, wasn't capable of more than just shifting against the touch, curling and releasing, unsure of where his hands should go or what he should do with any other part of himself. 

He whined.

"Years. Claude - Claude, please -" 

Claude's mouth went dry and he finally worked his way into the hem of Dimitri's underwear, trembling at the heat of finally touching him, skin on skin, at feeling the slick fluid that clung to the underside of the fabric. With the hem peeled upward, he could finally _smell_ it as well, the heavy and cloying scent of male arousal. 

He jerked him in long, languid strokes, trying to make it good for him, to let Dimitri indulge in this. 

"Maybe," Claude started, taking a breath, "if you could just - calm down once in awhile…" he stumbled there, as another small spurt of slick covered his fingers and Dimitri _moaned_ beneath him, heedless of who might hear, "you could have this more often."

Dimitri arched up against him, sighing in relief as Claude gave him everything he wanted, everything he thought he needed.

"...from you?" he asked, his voice hot and more vulnerable than Claude could have expected.

Claude realized very suddenly that there was very little he wouldn’t do to have Dimitri like this again. And again - however often he needed it, and well, Claude was a giving sort of guy and there was a special sort of satisfaction to see Dimitri unraveling beneath him.

So he nodded, hardly trusting his voice as his bow-calloused fingers continued gently manipulating Dimitri’s cock, not daring to hitch his underthings down all the way, just… stroking whatever he could touch, humming as he did so, warm and gentle and trying to make it _nice_ for him.

Dimitri didn’t need much more. With a final keening sound, the curve of his spine bowed against the bed, his sharp hipbones jutting out in stark contrast to the smooth planes of the rest of his body as he came, soiling his underwear and wetting Claude’s hand with his spend. Dimitri gasped, twitching with it as he settled back in, his orgasm making that last bit of tension ease from his shoulders in a way that not even the haze of intoxication had.

Slowly, Claude pulled his hand out, resisting the urge to smell Dimitri’s animal scent on him and instead gingerly wiping it on Dimitri’s hip - his clothing was a loss anyway.

For a moment, they just lay there, Dimitri in a glazed-over blissful afterglow, Claude watching him curiously, waiting to see what he’d do next or if he’d just fall asleep like Claude thought he might. Dimitri was again watching the stillness of the ceiling with deep and centered breaths, but after a moment, he met Claude’s gaze and wrenched himself back to his side to look at him, eye to eye.

“...that was nice,” he admitted, his lashes low, seductive without really even trying to be. It really wasn’t fair sometimes.

Claude shrugged and gently attempted to disengage, though not without recalling Dimitri’s earlier question - _from you?_ \- and his answering nod. He struggled to move then, turning to the edge of the bed to sit up, intent on leaving Dimitri to his own devices - after all, by that point he was sure that Dimitri wasn't really a threat to himself.

Before he could stand fully, there were hands at his shoulders, Dimitri on his knees behind him, his body a furnace at Claude’s back.

“Stay,” he murmured, the firmest voice Claude had heard from him yet.

Claude lets a smile find his mouth, his only form of defense.

“You gonna make me?” He asked, teasing, pushing upward at Dimitri’s hands in a motion to get up.

In retaliation Dimitri let go and slid beside him and, as if he was made of liquid, eased off of the bed, loose-limbed and pliant. Claude watched him, his smile frozen to his face.

“No,” Dimitri finally said back, his voice low, husky, “but I’ll give you a good reason to.”

Claude felt frozen as Dimitri, sleepy and hazed Dimitri, reached up for his pants, watching him with fractured focus. He didn’t move. How could he? He merely watched as Dimitri surprised him again and again, clumsily bringing his mouth to Claude’s knee, his clothed thigh, and slipped between his legs.

There, he paused.

“You don’t have to,” Claude assured him, touching fingers to his gold spun hair, “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

Dimitri huffed a frustrated breath, his teeth closing around the sensitive skin of Claude’s inner thigh. Even through the fabric, it hurt, and Claude yelped, going tense and jerking his leg away from him.

“You - did this,” Dimitri accused, looking up at him, fighting his way back to coherence, “so tell me what to do.”

Claude opened his mouth to say _what?_ but quickly closed it again, looking down at Dimitri’s sullen frustration and remembering, _I need you to tell me what to do_. His heart rate kicked up a notch as the dots slowly connected in his mind and for a tactician, he thought, he sure could miss a lot of very important details.

He looked up for a moment, took a breath, and let his eyes half-close before turning back to Dimitri between his legs, nearly naked and sticky with his own spend, staring up at him like a haughty little thing, and the hand in his hair slid down toward his mouth where he pushed a thumb in between his lips.

“I see,” Claude murmured and tried to find it in himself to be what Dimitri seemed to want from him, the ache in his thigh a reminder of Dimitri's needy submission.

Dimitri tipped his head, suckling absently on Claude’s finger, laying his cheek on his thigh, resting, looking up at him with that vivid blue eye. The trust was implicit, erotic, and though he knew that he may have had a hand in pushing that along, Dimitri already seemed to know about that and hadn’t pushed him away for it yet

“You don’t have to think about anything,” Claude breathed, crooking his thumb just a little to press against the flat of Dimitri’s tongue, “just let me do all the talking. After all, it’s what I do best.”

A warm huff of air ghosted over Claude’s palm from a scoff and he found himself smiling again.

“Do you like being on your knees for me?” he asked, bringing his other hand to Dimitri’s hair, smoothing it out over his leg, “do you like letting me take the reins?”

Dimitri offered no response and Claude felt him give and give hard, his eye dropping lower, blissed out in Claude’s hands, leaning against his leg, his little beast, gentle and calm but just for him, only for him.

Any thought of what Dimitri might have wanted to do down there was long forgotten, but that was alright. Claude was satisfied enough just holding him, just letting him sit there, until Dimitri began to drift off and Claude gentled him back up onto the bed, cleaned him up, and changed him into what he could only assume were clothes for sleeping.

He left him there, fast asleep and finally, for once, looking peaceful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the support! Hit me up [@unraelated](https://twitter.com/unraelated) for rambling. :) I always want to make new ship friends!


End file.
